


The Quest to Erebor According to Bifur

by Dream_Seeker



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bifur's mind, Gen, Happy, d'awwwww Bifur, fluffy stuf, grilling lettuce, rainbows and teddybears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Seeker/pseuds/Dream_Seeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bifur was a tough Dwarrow one would not wish to cross paths with. And then the unthinkable happened where dangerous Bifur became totally adorbs Bifur, who could still kick ass when needed while also enjoying roasting lettuce over a flame. Join Bifur on the Quest to Erebor and see the Adventure from his own eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Quest to Erebor According to Bifur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kenporusty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenporusty/gifts).



> I want to see if I can do this. I want to see if I can create a huge fic based on Bifur pre accident and based on what the journey to Erebor looked like through his eyes.   
> This is going to be mighty interesting.
> 
>  
> 
> BIG HUGE THANKS TO KENPORUSTY. She seriously wrote the arena scene and all things Anz.. the battle of Moria. I'm horrid with stuff like that and Kenporusty went above and beyond to get this chapter to where it is. I wrote probably 20% of this. She did the rest. I added bits here and there to her wonderful contributions but still. This is her chapter really. And I owe her the world for it.

"You need to calm down, Bifur!" Belbala amonished her son who was rather hyped up and running about the house with his cousin's Bofur and Bombur as they played a crude game of Dwarrows vs Goblins. "Go outside if the three of you are going to roughhouse. I need to get dinner going and it's not easy with you all underfoot."

"Sorry, mom!" Bifur got out and, with a grin, he grabbed the toy sword Bofur was holding and tore out of the house, his laughter followed by the yell from both his cousins as they chased after him. Belbala sighed though a smile touched her lips. She had been watching Bofur and Bomber while their parents were out picking up more supplies for their business. As they were toymakers, their work included having plenty of wood and it wasn't as accessible as ores were. She was glad when the cousins could come over as Bifur had no siblings of his own. It definitely gave him the means to get all his energy out and then some. 

Since his father had died shortly after their arrival to Ered Luin, Belbala did the best she could with what she had. She loved Bifur beyond words and ensured he was raised with manners, good morals, honesty, selflessness and dignity. They weren't well off by any means but they weren't in poverty either which she was grateful for. She was able to sell her baked goods for income and, as her wares were known far and wide, she was grateful to be able to ensure her son never lacked for anything. He would definitely have a good future and therefore, a good life. 

Nothing could make a mother happier than that knowledge. 

* * *

Dwalin was proud of a few of his students. Though he was still young as far as Dwarrow's went, he was old enough in Thorin's eyes to start training others and he had taken to it fully, proud to hold that honor. To his delight, Thorin's Nephews, Kili and Fili, would sometimes wander over to watch the proceedings, wide eyes taking in all which was going on during the training session. Though still too young to partake, the brothers would mimic what they saw, Kili spinning and falling on his bottom after he'd try to pull off a more advanced move, but instantly getting up to retry. Dwalin knew they'd become excellent fighters once they got proper training and he was looking forward to doing so. 

For now, the Dwarrow was instructing his current students: Nadak, Brofil, Pova, Mory, Gorin, Bifur, Bofur and the two brothers Torab and Tirab. It was a smaller class than usual but better in Dwalin's eyes. He could give better 'one on one' and could pay better attention to each students' needs as they came up. At the moment, he was having the group learn how to wield swords, having them utilize the training dummies set up here and there in the area. As he went to each one, helping their stances and swings, he happened to notice Bifur.

The Dwarrow was almost lost in his own world, focused fully on the dummy before him. Despite lack of training, Bifur was landing his strikes perfectly, even finishing with a killing stroke across the dummy's neck. 

 Dwalin  was impressed by the tenacity of young Bifur. A fast learner, and naturally skilled, Dwalin wished dearly to take the dwarfling under his personal tutelage, but that was a topic for later. It was definitely something he wasn't going to pass up, however. Skill like that was rare and came around only now and again. There was definitely something in the Dwarrow which Dwalin could see maturing into a very formidable warrior. 

“Bifur,” Dwalin said.

  
Bifur finished the form he was practicing with a flourish, reseating his practice sword in its sheath. He turned to face his instructor with a bow, hair falling in his face. Even at his young age, his hair remained stubbornly untamed, except for the single braid tied in the middle with a silver bead. “Yes, sir,” Bifur looked up at his scarred instructor.

“You are doing very well with your training. You have mastered the basic forms beautifully. You bring your family honor, and you make me look pretty good in the eyes of Thorin.”  Dwalin told the Dwarrow and smiled as he saw Bifur puff his chest out with well deserved pride. “I wanted to teach you some of the advanced techniques and advanced forms. I fully believe that someday you will make a great warrior, and if you do well enough, you just may depose me as Captain of the Guard.”  
  
Bifur was silent, the offer - and idea of the future having him potentially taking Dwalin's position - replaying itself over and over in his mind. Finally the Dwarrow remembered that Dwalin was awaiting a response from him so, meeting the warrior's eyes, he gave a quick nod, eyes giving away his excitement.  
  
“We’ll begin work tomorrow, then, first thing.” Dwalin chuckled and dropped a fond hand on the top of Bifur’s head, ruffling the already messy hair. "Try to get good sleep tonight. You'll definitely need to call upon all of your rest." 

* * *

  
Bifur had a mind like a bear trap and the agility to move with a deadly grace. Once Dwalin showed Bifur a new technique, he would remember it without too many reminders. He dedicated himself to practicing until well after dusk.  
  
Now he faced one of the advanced students, the dull edges of the training blades they both held coated with red chalk, to see where the strikes landed on white robes.  
  
“Bifur facing Kirin for advancement,” Dwalin announced loudly from between the two students. “The two shall face off until a killing blow is struck. The time limit is five minutes. If no blow is struck in the time limit, the duel shall be called a draw and the time will be reset. If a competitor steps out of the sparring ring, he shall be made forfeit with mastery going to the other.”  
  
Dwalin stepped back, outside the ring, and blew a tin whistle to signal the start.  
  
Bifur moved immediately, darting in around Kirin’s guard, swinging to strike his upper arm. Kirin twisted, blocking the maneuver, with Bifur glancing off the other’s sword. Bifur side-stepped, moving to strike his open flank. Kirin matched his move, brought down a block, flicking up and twisting to move to Bifur’s inside.

Kirin scored the first point; a small poke to the flank but truly nothing which would have caused serious damage. Still the combatants separated, bowed, and prepared to move again, carefully circling each other, eyes already gauging the first line of attack.

As Dwalin had trained best he could up to this moment, rules stated he was not to give hints, tips or pointers to either student, but it didn't mean he didn't have to cheer on either side. Granted, his heart was pulling for Bifur, though Kirin was just as much a valuable and strong fighter. He could hear Bofur and Bombur cheering on their cousin from the other side of the small arena and it put a smile on Dwalin's face. His attention was then pulled back to the two in the arena. 

 Bifur’s eyes flicked over his opponent’s guard. He had to smile. Kirin had quickly learned that Bifur was fast, and could sneak into the smallest gap.

“Whatsa matter? Badger can’t find a hole?” Kirin taunted.  
  
Bifur grinned  but said nothing as his focus was streamlined onto his opponent. Kirin stood with his left foot leading, his weight shifted slightly forward, guarding his centerline, elbows firmly anchored and his eyes glinting in the sunlight. The Dwarrow's myriad of braids were pulled back tightly and plaited together to fall between his shoulder blades. Two loose braids fell over his shoulder, however, and Bifur saw them twitch only once before Kirin took the telling lunge forward.   
  
Bifur’s sword came up, blocked, parried, almost easily knocking the weapon away as he lunged into Kirin’s unguarded flank, bringing a glancing blow hard against his side. Kirin, though slightly winded, recovered quickly and scored a mirrored strike against Bifur’s flank, both Dwarrow's blows landing almost simultaneously.  
  
They grinned at one another, bringing both swords up, eyes locked as they tensed up just slightly.  
  
It was now or never and both were highly aware of it.  
  
Bifur’s eyes sparkled as he unleashed himself at his opponent, striking with a flurry of blows, knocking Kirin back towards the edge of the ring. Bifur made it past Kirin’s guard, blocking his arms firmly, snaking his foot around to Kirin’s right, sweeping the foot clear and dropped Kirin hard to the dirt, swinging his sword down to Kirin’s throat - and he stopped just before he struck with full power.  
  
Bifur simply tapped Kirin’s throat, leaving a smear of chalk in its wake.  
  
Dwalin called the match, stepping back into the ring. Bifur offered a hand to his opponent, pulling him off the ground and giving him a friendly headbutt.

"Good match!" Bifur said proudly. "You're as good as I am, Kirin. It was an honor today." 

"That it was, Bifur. I'd fight next to you any time." Was Kirin's reply as Dwalin looked upon both students fondly. 

"The two of you did amazingly well. I couldn't be more proud of each of you. As Bifur got the killing blow, he rises to Master level - but your training is far from done. We have a long way to go and every day is an opportunity to work hard, hone your skills even more, and to stay on top of your game. One hopes they never need to use their skills - but they also do not wish to be rusty in the case they do need to rely on them." 

* * *

Time passed. Bifur grew to be a formidable Dwarrow, matching the strength and ferocity of Dwalin, regarded highly by all around. Polite, kind, quick with a smile or joke - a trait shared by his family, yet formidable when provoked, especially when the honor of his friends and family became threatened.  
  
His trustworthiness and skill amongst the dwarrow of the Ered Luin garnered his approval from the young Prince Thorin, who stated his Royal Father and Grandfather would have approved of the young Dwarrow's skills. Being from a common line, this compliment meant the world to Bifur, but he never let the words go to his head. He never held himself aloft from the rest of the dwarves of the Ered Luin, going about his work and training as every other worker would.  
To Bifur, everyone was equal, no one was better or lesser for their status or titles. One earned respect, one worked for their name, though some might have been born into their titles.  
  
If you gave respect, you gained respect.  
  
Bifur was honored to be tapped to march with Thror and the army of the Dwarves to take back Moria from the Orcs. Nerves mixed with adrenaline as they saw the amassed army. Words in Khuzdul failed, directions flashed through the ranks with Iglishmek.  
  
 _“Be steady, be strong. Axes of Dwarves! The Dwarves are upon you!”_  
 _“Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!”_  
  
Quickly the battle dissolved into chaos, and it was everything Bifur could do to keep his wits around him, swinging with the ferocity inherent in his blood, and taught to him under the tutelage of Dwalin. He growled and cried as he felled orc after orc, he and the two Dwarrows flanking him forming a protective knot, watching out for one another.  
  
However, the others were separated, forced apart by their own personal fights with the tenacious orcs who kept flowing nonstop from the mouth of the caverns. At one point, Bifur found himself alone, face to face with an orc. Swinging ferociously, stroke after stroke blocked and parried, the adrenaline long burned away, the sturdiness of Dwarrow's kept him standing and conscious, always fighting and never stopping for a moment.  
  
He saw the orc raise his axe, swinging for a killing blow and then Bifur's  world blacked out as he felt the tingle of pain as the axe entered the thick skull of his forehead.  
  


* * *

  
Bifur came around, blinking quickly as the bright sun assaulted his eyes, the healer squatting next to him, letting out a relieved sigh. “What’s your name, son?” The healer asked gently.   
  
Bifur opened his mouth to assure him he was fine, and found nothing but Khuzdul and inane syllables coming  out. In confused horror, he shut his mouth with a snap, looking at the healer with wild, confused eyes.  
  
“ _What happened to me?_ ” He asked, the question severely garbled in his poor speech.  
  
The healer frowned as he tried to understand and shook his head before he reached into his sack. Finding what he sought, he held a polished silver mirror up so Bifur could look at himself, his hair matted with blood - and the broken end of the orc's axe jutting obscenely from his forehead. With a shout which took the last of Bifur's energy, he reached up to try to remove the offending object, growing agitated when his hand was roughly pulled away.   
  
Bifur broke down inside as he was told they dared not remove it else he'd die. Shortly after that, his strength fully left him and once again his world faded to blackness. 

 


End file.
